


Peters-Molina

by slusheez



Series: Julie and the Humans [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No one dies, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Minor Flynn/Carrie Wilson - Freeform, Minor Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Non-Binary Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reggie Peters Has ADHD (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters is a Molina (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters-centric (Julie and The Phantoms), Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, all my homies hate reggie's parents, no ghosts, welcome to the circus babey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29577558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slusheez/pseuds/slusheez
Summary: Reggie's journey to becoming a part of the Molina family.Reggie-centric, mostly going to be fluffy found family stuff! Part of an AU where the guys never died and they're all teenagers in 2021.UPDATE:a) There are some instances of neglect and child abuse mentioned (mentioned and shown), so please proceed with caution. There will be warnings listed anywhere their inclusion is central.b) The majority of the ships listed are incidental; they are addressed fairly directly, but they are not central to the fic.
Series: Julie and the Humans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172933
Comments: 32
Kudos: 105





	1. Identity

Ray had quickly gotten used to the cavalcade of new faces which occasionally appeared in his kitchen- it was an adjustment, of course (he couldn’t be expected to adapt to the revolving door of teenagers which now regularly passed through his home overnight), but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. If it meant his daughter was getting back on her feet- hell, she could bring a hundred kids to their home and he wouldn’t turn a soul away. And these kids had done what Ray had thought impossible- they’d brought music back into her life. If all they wanted as thanks was to loiter in his garage from time to time, who was he to judge? He was just glad his daughter was  _ herself  _ again. Over time, he picked things up about the new faces. Usually, it was general things- things he’d need to know given how often the kids were at his house. He knew to remind Alex to check his fannypack for his inhaler, he knew Luke’s allergies like the back of his hand, he knew that Bobby would always raid the kitchen for junk food (both his sister and his father despised hyper-processed snack foods, and so he’d never get them at home). Other things he’d picked up from conversations between his children and their friends- Reggie’s infatuation with country, for example, was something which came up an inordinate amount, Ray thought. Julie’s bandmates were fairly open about themselves, but life at home was always a quiet subject for everyone but Luke. Again, Ray had gathered some things- subtle changes in the boys’ behavior around their parents, but he didn’t dare intrude. If his inklings were right (which he hoped they weren’t), he wanted to make his home as safe a place as possible for the kids- and bombarding them with questions about home was a surefire way to destroy that sense of safety. Though the phantoms all had shaky (at best) relationships with their parents, Ray noticed Reggie hung around far more often than his other friends did. It was little things that set Ray’s suspicions off. A subtle wince when a cup was set down too loud, or the way he’d so slightly step in front of Carlos when Ray raised his voice. Ray felt an ache in his heart, watching Reggie act that way- something fatherly within him turned over whenever Reggie shrank from a conversation, or flinched when Ray moved a bit too fast. He was a sweet kid- he couldn’t imagine what he’d been through, or how anyone could put him through it. But he’d promised himself not to pressure the kids into telling him anything, unless worst came to worst- a situation he often prayed would never confront him.

It was a fairly average night when Reggie arrived- no band practice, but Reggie often popped in to play video games with Carlos, so Ray thought nothing of it when the teenager rang the doorbell before letting himself in.

“Hey, Reggie,” Ray called from the kitchen, where he was fixing dinner. Tinny, 80s rock played softly from an old Bluetooth speaker as he diced onions, humming along to the tune.

“Oh. Hi, Ray.” Reggie called back- he lacked his normal enthusiasm, Ray noted. “Is, uh- Is Julie here?”

“Ah, no, sorry- she’s out with Alex. It’s half-off at the record-shop, she needed help picking something out for Luke.”

“Oh.” Regie was silent for a beat before slowly walking into the kitchen, where he promptly sat at the countertop, just across from Ray. He slung his backpack onto the other chair before kicking his feet, quietly looking at nothing in particular.

Reggie sat in silence for some time as Ray continued to cook, still humming along to the tune softly billowing out of the speaker. When a minute or so had passed, Reggie still sat silent. Ray sat down his ingredients and lowered the flame on the stove, before leaning forward on the counter with his hands, softly clearing his throat.

“Do you want to talk about something, Reg?” Ray said softly, quietly drumming his fingers on the cold countertops.

“I… I don’t know. Kind of.” Reggie replied shortly, before going silent again. His eyes drifted from light fixture to light fixture, avoiding eye contact with Ray almost pointedly.

“Well, when you’re ready to talk, I’m he-”

“I’m non-binary,” The words fled out of his mouth as he began rocking back and forth on the chair, hands gripping its undersides firmly. “Sorry for interrupting. Also, can I stay the night.” He said it more like a statement than a question.

Ray paused to absorb the information. “Of course you can stay the night, cariño, feel free to take the spare.” 

“And. Um. The other thing?” For the first time since he’d walked into the house that night, he looked Ray in the eyes. The beginnings of tears welled up in them, as though he expected something awful to happen. Ray felt that ache in his heart again.

Ray smiled- soft, fatherly, warm. “Reggie,” he started, voice full of gentleness. “I am so, so very proud of you. Thank you for telling me, mij-” He stopped on the word, thinking. “Or.. maybe not that. How would you like me to refer to you?”

“It… kind of depends?” Reggie replied, a little more relaxed, though the tears still welled in his eyes. “Today’s a he day. I think I’m like… genderfluid or something.”

Ray nodded. He wasn’t entirely up to date on gender expression and the likes, but he was at least a little familiar with that one; Julie had been in the GSA in middle school, and she’d ramble about the genderfluid vice president for hours at a time… a crush, Ray had rightly assumed. “Okay, he day- then I can assume masculine terms are alright today, as well?” Reggie nodded, and Ray smiled again. “Alright. Like I was saying, thank you, mijo, for telling me.”

“Yeah,” Reggie said aimlessly, still trying to calm himself down. “Thank you for being so cool about this, Ray- I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Ray got back to working on dinner, raising the flame before noticing Reggie’s return to silence. He looked over to see Reggie fiddling with his hands, looking at the ceiling. “Do you want a hug, Reggie?”

“Yes. That… would be nice.”

Ray set down his chopping board once more and strode around the counter, before quickly enveloping Reggie in the best fatherly hug he could possibly muster. Reggie was hesitant to lean into it at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around Ray in kind.

“...Thank you, Ray.” He said, voice slightly muffled against the older man’s shirt.

“It’s no problem, Reggie,” Ray responded, before breaking the hug. “Now, about you staying the night. Will you need an extra change of clothes, or are you planning on getting some from home?”

Reggie smiled with his teeth, visibly shedding the layer of nervousness he’d been carrying before. “I’ve got clothes in the bag. Movies, too- ” Reggie began, as he eagerly began to run through the variety of movies he’d brought over to the Molina house. Ray gave a happy sigh as he swung his dish towel over his shoulder and returned to his cooking, gingerly nodding along to Reggie’s eager explanation of the plots of each film.


	2. Sleepovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the events of Julie and Reggie's sleepover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All that happens in this one is Reggie getting their nails painted lol

Julie and Reggie sat clad in pajamas on the floor of her living room, Reggie in an old Metallica t-shirt and plaid bottoms, and Julie in a baby blue nightgown. The tv buzzed softly in the background as some awful made-for-TV movie the pair had abandoned watching nearly an hour ago was approaching its closing act. They chatted aimlessly about the events of school and their last practice session, cracking inside jokes and generally goofing off. 

“Thanks again for letting me stay over, man,” Reggie hummed as they adjusted their sitting position. 

“It’s never an issue, Reg, mi casa, su casa, you know?” Julie smiled in response, fishing popcorn out of the bowl. “Here, catch,” she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at her friend's nose. Reggie shifted to attempt to catch it in their mouth, where it decidedly bounced off of their nose and onto the carpet, earning giggles from the both of them.

After a beat of silence, Reggie sighed. “This movie fucking sucks,” they said decidedly, reaching for the remote.

“Oh, thank god you said it first,” Julie laughed heartily, before eating a handful of popcorn. “Did you bring anything else?”

“Nothing we haven’t already watched,” Reggie replied, flipping through the channels aimlessly. “Ugh, I knew I should’ve brought Troll 2,”

“Ooh, is that any good?” Julie said, rolling over on her stomach.

Reggie responded with a snort. “No. But it’s funny, at least- unlike whatever  _ this  _ is.” They said, gesturing at the TV for emphasis. “How is there nothing on?”

“It  _ is  _ like… eleven forty. The only stuff on right now is probably either also garbage or local news. We could do something else, maybe?”

“Like what?” Reggie questioned, shifting again to lay on their back, staring at the ceiling.

“I dunno, normal sleepover stuff?”

“The only sleepovers I’ve had before I met you were with the guys, and usually we just practice or play video games for like six hours,” Reggie replied, “so I don’t really know what you mean by normal- though there was that time we tp-ed Bobby’s house,”

“One, you have GOT to tell me about how that went down sometime,” Julie said, “and two, I guess normal sleepover stuff is just… the stuff I do with Carrie and Flynn. Crush-talk, complaining about teachers- that sort of stuff.”

“What, no board games?”

“We used to play more board games, but we haven’t since… the monopoly incident,” Julie answered, giving an exaggerated shudder for comedic effect.

“Let me guess: Carrie?”

“Carlos, actually.”

“That’s even more terrifying,” Reggie laughed.

“Oh, believe me, it was.” Julie nodded gravely. “But for real though, I don’t know. I guess I could like, paint your nails or something?”

“Really?” Reggie said, suddenly sitting up. “

“Of course! I haven’t painted anyone’s nails in a while, but if you want to-”

“Hell yeah, I want to! I’ve never gotten them painted before,” they said wistfully. “I bite my nails too much for it. Plus, my dad would  _ freak _ .”

“Oh dude, I don’t want to do it if you’d get in trouble with your dad,”

“I can stick up for myself, Jules,” Reggie shrugged. “Besides, fuck that guy.” 

“Alright,” Julie conceded. “Come on, I’ll show you all the colors I have.”

The two headed up the stairs to Julie’s room, where Julie showed off her admittedly small collection of nail polishes. Reggie eagerly picked out black and red, and the pair returned down the stairs. On the way to the living room, they were briefly accosted by Ray, who requested they try to get some sleep, even though they didn’t have school in the morning. Julie quickly assured her father they would, and soon the two had returned to their positions on the living room floor, now sat across from each other. Reggie hugged their knees to their chest, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Alright, which hand do you want the red on? Or do you want it in a pattern?”

“Uh…” Reggie quickly did L’s with their hands. “Red on the left.”

Julie nodded and began the process of applying the first coat of paint. “This is gonna take a bit, so, if you need me to go get your stress ball or whatever just tell me and we can take a break.” Reggie nodded, a sign they’d understood, but was mostly occupied with watching Julie carefully apply the paint to each nail. The two sat in pleasant silence for a moment, the only sounds in the room from the tv, which was now playing an overly long ad for a gimmick product… something about food processors, Reggie thought.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Julie said, breaking the silence.

“No clue.”

“Alright… random topic. Who was your first crush?”

Reggie snickered, before giving it some thought. “Person or cartoon?”

“I was thinking a person, but I’m interested now. Either.”

“Promise you won't laugh.”

“Pinkie promise- or, I guess I can’t really do that right now. Yeah, I promise.”

“Grim from Billy and Mandy.” They said with a breath, hiding their face with their free hand.

Julie stopped in her tracks, slowly looking up at Reggie. The effort she was exerting not to laugh was clear in her face. “Reg.”

“What! He was tall and he had a cool voice,”

“REGINALD! The Grim Reaper?” Julie said, the laughs spilling out of her despite herself. “Oh my god. Off to a great start.”

“Oh, don’t act like you’re any better. Wasn’t yours that weird kid from Invader Zim?”

“Dib?” Julie questioned, before realization struck her. “Wait. How do you know that?”

“Luke is worse than me at keeping secrets,” Reggie supplied, proud of themself. “Anyway, I hardly find it fair to judge me for liking Grim when you were like… thirsting after an alien truther.”

“Don’t say that, Dib was charming!” Julie giggled, too amused to even feign frustration for the sake of the joke.

“He looked like a bug! More than Zim!” They exclaimed, waving their hands for emphasis.

“Hey, watch out, you’ll smudge the paint,” Julie said quickly. Reggie quickly ceased their motions, though they were struggling not to continue laughing.

“Alright, my turn to ask a question... “ Reggie said, going quiet as they thought of something to say. “Oh! So… you and Luke, huh? What’s going on there?”

Julie blushed profusely at this. “Alright, that's the second layer of red done… give me your right hand so I can do the other color,”

Reggie complied before a light blinked on in their head. “Hey, don’t avoid the question!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, please tell me?” Reggie whined, offering their big green puppy-dog eyes in an attempt to sway her.

“Fine,” Julie drew out, Reggie’s tactic ending in success. The blush was still faint on her cheeks as she began to explain. “We’re, uh... Talking, I guess. I think it’s going well.”

“Just talking?”

“Just talking.”

“Yeah right,” Reggie hummed. “The two of you nearly fall over each other at every show- there’s something there, Jules.”

“I hope so,” she replied earnestly, “but I don’t know if he thinks of me the same way or if we’re just flirting to flirt, you know?”

“Juliana Molina. I have known Luke for thirteen years. I am almost  _ certain  _ it’s not just Luke being hot and charming.” Reggie said firmly, waving their newly freed left hand. “You should hear how much he talks about you, really.”

Julie smiled, something warm in her chest. “Thanks, Reg… that’s actually really assuring.”

“No problem,” they nodded, pleased. “Just wanted to let you know that it’s something worth going after, I guess. Besides, even if I’m wrong, better to know and get it over with than to not know and be upset at yourself for not knowing,” 

Julie nodded slowly. “You can be really smart when you want to be, Reg,” she smiled, yawning slightly.

“One of my many talents.” Reggie laughed, sleep inching into their voice as well.

“Okay, I’m gonna do the clear coat and then you’ll be all done.” Julie hummed, beginning work on applying the finishing touch to Reggie’s set of nails.

“Oh, sick,” Reggie hummed, and the two fell back into a comfortable silence as Julie finished up.

After a few minutes passed, Julie looked up, screwing the tops back on the polishes. “Alright, done.” She said nodding, pleased at her work. “Don’t touch them for like, fifteen minutes.”

“I will try, but fair warning, I’m literally about to pass out. What time is it, anyway?”

“It’s like... Oh shit, it’s one in the morning. I’d usually be asleep like… three hours ago,” Julie yawned.

“You get to sleep that early? Reggie said incredulously.

“You don’t?”

They shrugged, moving to rub their eyes before Julie pulled their hand back down. “I dunno. Never been able to. I don’t really sleep much, regardless.”

“That’s like… terrible for your body.”

“I've spent like two months living off of stale ramen before,” they said nonchalantly. “If I could handle that, I’ll be alright.”

Julie’s brow furrowed, feeling a tug in her heart at how bluntly Reggie had said that. “That’s not…” She began, but the words died in her mouth as she watched Reggie happily take in their newly painted nails.

“This rules, Jules!” They said excitedly, wiggling their fingers. “And look, I haven't even smudged, like, any of them.”

“Glad you like the handiwork,” Julie smiled. “Hey, look, I’m gonna head to sleep soon so I’m gonna go get some blankets.”

Reggie nodded. “Cool. I’ll try and get some sleep too, I guess. Could you get me some?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” She said through a yawn, before heading back up the stairs to her room. She soon returned, hands full with various blankets and a few pillows, and let Reggie take their pick of the bunch. Soon, the two had settled into their places on the couch, Reggie beneath a large ‘Star Wars’ themed blanket, and Julie under the comforter she had pulled from her bed. Reggie stretched underneath the blanket, feeling a sort of safety they were frankly unused to. They shifted to lay on their side, smiling at Julie (who at this point was more asleep than awake).

“Night, Julie.” Reggie hummed.

“Night, Reg,” Julie replied, dozing off almost as soon as the words left her mouth.

That night, Reggie slept through the night for the first time they had in a very long time.


	3. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reggie stays at the Molina's for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Neglect (mentioned). Please approach with caution.
> 
> This one gets a little less fluffy near the end- nothing graphic, but it's a bit sad.

Having the phantoms over for dinner was less than uncommon in the Molina house; with how often the band hung around, it was almost an inevitability. After a successful gig, or even just a good day at school, the kids would flood into the living room, happily recounting the events of the day. Almost at once, the house was filled with noise: the teasing calls of inside jokes, eager propositions to play video games, and thorough run-downs of which teachers had been annoying throughout the week all filled the rooms with vibrance and laughter. Before long, when Ray had finished cooking, they’d all pile around the table, a tad too small to seat all of them (especially when Alex brought Willie along, or when Flynn brought Carrie), and eagerly awaited dinner, still chattering about whatever topic came to mind. Often, one of the kids would try and help in the kitchen- Luke rarely left without at least helping to clean the dishes, while Alex had offered to help Ray cook on numerous occasions. It was chaotic, certainly, but Ray loved every moment of it; there was something truly fulfilling seeing a house that had been so quiet and melancholy a few years ago once again bustling with life. If Rose were here, he thinks, she’d have loved to see it.

On that particular evening, only Reggie had stayed for dinner. Luke, Alex, and Flynn had family dinners, while the Wilson twins were trying to secure gigs for their respective musical groups. Reggie, with no real desire to return home any earlier than need be, opted to simply stick around, which Ray happily obliged. Dinner that night wasn’t going to be anything particularly fancy- Carlos had gotten a good grade on his math test and so requested spaghetti for dinner. Whenever he could, Ray insisted on making things fresh- so he was floating from place to place in the kitchen, trying to make tomato sauce from scratch. In the living room, Reggie was letting Carlos win at Super Mario Kart, while Julie half-watched them play (too preoccupied on her phone to divert her full attention to the race unfolding on the television screen).

“You blue-shelled me? That’s totally unfair!” Carlos cried out as his kart spun out, glaring over at Reggie.

“It’s part of the game, little dude,” Reggie replied nonchalantly, speeding into first place.

“Yeah, but you held onto it until you got to second,” Carlos scowled.

“Hey, you can’t be upset at them for being calculating,” Julie hummed, not looking up from her phone.

“Exactly,” Reggie said triumphantly, only to be hit by a green-shell and passed by a snickering Carlos. “Hey!”

“What?” Carlos said, innocently. “You can’t blame me for having good aim,”

“Kids, dinner’s in five,” Ray called from the kitchen, interrupting the two. “I’ll set the table, you all wash up.”

The kids all picked up from their positions on the couch and headed over to the kitchen, taking turns washing and drying their hands before seating themselves at the kitchen table. After the kids were settled in, Ray set out the food he’d prepared- the spaghetti Carlos had asked for, accompanied by mixed vegetables and warm garlic bread. Soon everyone got to plating their meals, as Ray began the thread of conversation for the night.

“So, outside of Carlos’ spectacular test grade,” Ray said, ruffling his son’s hair with a proud smile on his face (which was received with a noise of embarrassed annoyance from Carlos), “how has school been going for you all?”

“It’s been going pretty well,” Julie replied, smiling. “Things are better in music class, now, at least.”

“It’s been alright for me, too,” Reggie echoed. “I mean, I’m  _ totally  _ failing English right now, but other than that it’s pretty smooth sailing.”

“Having a tough time with English, huh?” Ray questioned.

“Eh, I’ve just never really been a language arts person,” they shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the entire affair. “I’ve kinda made peace with not being the brightest.”

“Reggie’s pretty smart everywhere else, though,” Julie said, hoping to boost her friend’s confidence. “The  _ only  _ reason you aren’t in AP Calculus or something is because the school won't let you take it,”

“Yeah, Reggie’s great at math! Reggie helped me study for the test last week,” Carlos agreed as he twirled up a forkful of spaghetti. “I forgot to thank you for that. Thank you,”

Reggie laughed. “No problem, man. Happy to help.”

“So the school won't let you take higher-level math classes? Any idea why?” Ray questioned, taking a sip of his drink.

Reggie paused, a little embarrassed. “Oh. Uh, I was in special ed when I was younger, when my ADHD made it harder to like… participate, I guess, in normal school stuff. So even though I’m in the regular classes now, they don’t want me to take any classes early. If I’m lucky, they’ll let me take the high-level stuff when I’m a senior, but I don’t know.”

“I’m telling you, if you took it up with the principal instead of your guidance counselor-” Julie started.

“I don’t want to be pushy,” Reggie interrupted, hoping to table the discussion. “Besides, we’re halfway through the semester. They wouldn’t switch me out now, anyway.”

“It just isn’t fair.” Julie sighed, though she clearly picked up on Reggie’s distaste for the topic at hand and left it there. The silence which followed was brief but deeply uncomfortable.

Ray, sensing the sudden shift in the two teenager’s attitudes, quickly moved to steer the conversation somewhere else. “So, Carlos, you were talking about a group project your social studies teacher gave you?” 

Carlos groaned. “Ugh, yeah. I got paired with the two people who don’t do any work, so I’m going to end up doing it all by myself…”

As the night went on, Carlos continued to complain about his lazier classmates, while Julie and Reggie excitedly gushed about anything that came to mind, from new music Luke was working on, to a movie that was due to premiere soon. Ray bobbed his head along to the kid’s ramblings, a happy feeling rising in his chest.

“Y’know, this is nice,” Reggie said after a beat.

“Yeah, this is killer spaghetti,” Carlos hummed.

“No, I meant like, this,” Reggie corrected, gesturing their hands broadly, taking another portion of spaghetti. “Though the spaghetti is great. My folks don’t really do this often… or like, ever. Family dinners, I mean. Most days I just fend for myself in the food department,”

“Oh?” Ray replied, his face clear with worry.

“Yeah… My parents can barely stand to be in the same  _ room  _ most of the time, so cooking in the same kitchen’s usually a no for both of them. Even if it wasn’t, they’re usually busy with something or another, if they’re home. I don’t even know when we’d  _ have  _ a family dinner, with how often they’re out... so I don’t eat home-cooked stuff that much. I was actually telling Julie a while ago about the month I spent just eating ramen because there wasn’t anything else in the house, since my mom was too upset with my dad to go shopping. It was awful.” They laughed, seemingly unaware of the gravity of what they’d said.

“That sounds… awful, Reg,” Julie said, a little dumbfounded as to how to respond.

“I guess so, yeah.” They said with a light chuckle, their tone unreadable save for their trademark ‘Reggie positivity’. They suddenly looked up from their plate, eyes wide. “Oh, shit. I’m oversharing, aren’t I?” They said, followed by a quick apology for swearing.

“Don’t worry about the oversharing, cariño,” Ray said, the warm feeling he had in his heart mere minutes ago swiftly replaced by a painful heaviness. “I’m glad you said something about it.”

“Sure,” Reggie replied, almost physically shrinking into themself.

The night proceeded, with Reggie notably quieter. After some dull attempts to revive the conversation, the table was cleared and dishes were being washed (Reggie insisted on helping for ‘being trouble’). Soon, Reggie was at the door, preparing to walk home.

“Thanks for having me, Ray,” Reggie said, rocking back and forth on their heels.

“Any time,” Ray smiled. A sudden wave of fatherly seriousness washed over him, setting his hand on Reggie’s shoulder (and trying to ignore the sadness which overcame him when Reggie flinched, ever so slightly, at the movement). “Look, Reggie… If your parents ever skip out on dinner again, feel free to stop by unannounced.”

“Are… are you sure?”

“I'm sure. It’s no trouble, and the more the merrier, as they say. Are you sure you don’t want a ride home?”

“Thank you,” Reggie smiled weakly. “And yeah. I like walking.”

“Okay, if you’re certain. Now you should get home, it’s getting dark out. Feel free to call if you need anything, all right?” Ray said, taking his hand off of the teenager’s shoulder.

“Yeah, alright.” 

Ray opened the door to let Reggie out, and he was quickly greeted by one of the tightest hugs he’d ever gotten in his life.

“You’re, um,” Reggie said, voice strangled by emotion. “You’re a really good guy. Thank you, for real.”

“Thank  _ you _ , Reggie.” 

Reggie released his grip before reaching for the door. They offered a short wave before heading out into the night, their path illuminated by the glare of streetlights.

Ray closed the door with a deep sigh. The kids would be headed off to bed, soon- it was the perfect time to put in a call.

“Hey, Victoria. Yes, I know it’s late… Look, I really need your advice about something.” He began. “It’s about Reg,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, half way! the next chapter might take a little longer than normal. 
> 
> fair warning: the next two chapters are /not/ going to be very fluffy. be prepared


	4. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: Abuse, neglect. Please approach this chapter with caution if either of these things are triggers for you.
> 
> Reggie heads home after band practice. It doesn't go great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning, this chapter is much longer than the other ones!

It was an impromptu practice session- Bobby had booked the group a gig at a tiny venue uptown that Sunday, and so the band was working overtime to prepare. Flynn and Carrie had popped in to provide moral support (and critique, on Carrie’s end). All things considered, practice went great- all the pieces sort of fell together in a way they always did before a great show. It was nearly flawless, save for when Reggie nearly face-planted after trying to do a cool move with their bass. The music slowly faded out as the phantoms wrapped up the last song of their lineup, accompanied by claps from Flynn and Carrie.

“Killer line up, guys! It actually gave me some great ideas about the lighting for the show…” Flynn remarked excitedly, trailing off as she pulled out her phone and began rapidly writing up notes. “Bobby, once you guys are all wrapped up I’ll tell you everything.”

“That… was an actually decent set,” Carrie concluded after a moment of thought, earning an eye roll from Flynn. 

“Just decent?” Luke questioned, trying and failing to emulate his ‘cooler’ on-stage persona as his voice pitched upwards.

“Relax, Luke,” Julie giggled, clearly picking up on her bandmate’s anxiety. “Anything other than ‘total garbage’ is high praise from Carrie.”

“It’s true,” Carrie confirmed, before turning her attention elsewhere. “Congrats, Bobby, you didn’t totally ruin your friend’s music. Though your B string sounds a little flat.”

Bobby flipped off his sister without looking up as he began to readjust his tuning pegs according to her advice. 

“Alright, then! I think we can wrap it up until tomorrow's practice,” Luke said, spirits high. “Unless you guys want to run through it again, because I’ve got some ideas on what we could do about Edge of Great,”

“We’ve run through the show like four times, man,” Alex said, aimlessly twirling his drum sticks. “I’m gonna get  _ splinters  _ if we do another one today.”

“I agree with ‘Lex. We are one-hundred percent overdue for some R&R.” Bobby hummed, lifting his guitar strap over his head. “If we keep going we’re gonna suck on Sunday. And there's actually going to be, like… people there.”

“Okay, fine,” Luke sighed, cracking his knuckles. “I’m gonna head home, then. My mom’s making pizza.”

“Oh, sweet! Can I come over?” Bobby said, looking up from putting his guitar away.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t see why not. Let me text her, though... Anyone else down to come?”

After a chorus of ‘yeses' and a quiet ‘can Wille come?’ from Alex, Reggie spoke up, their bass slung against their back. 

“Sorry, dude, I can’t make it. I’ve got laundry and dishes tonight,” They said, picking slightly at their freshly painted nails- one hand still black, the other painted white (a sign they were using they/them pronouns for the time being).

“Ah, damn. That’s lame,” Luke said, looking a tad dejected. “See you tomorrow, then, okay?”

“Yeah, totally. Four PM here, right?”

Julie and Luke simultaneously replied with a yes, to which Reggie nodded.

“Alright, see you guys then,” Reggie hummed, waving to their friends as they exited the garage.

The walk home was usually the worst part of the night. It was nice out today, Reggie noted, which lessened the feeling of dread pooling in their stomach- something which crept up upon them every time they returned home after practice. Though they were grateful to have someplace to go home to, they wouldn’t complain if that place was somewhere else. A cool breeze followed them as they followed the sidewalks, aimlessly counting cracks in the pavement as they walked. It wasn’t always like this, going home. It was a happier affair when they were little, they were certain- Reggie could remember that much. The memories they still had of their younger days were sparse, though, outside of moments they’d spent with Luke, Alex, and Bobby. It was probably for the best that they couldn’t remember anything else; no point in shattering the happy illusion in pursuit of the truth. As they grew closer to the beach, the shadows grew longer and the breeze grew colder, the gentle wind becoming a series of uncomfortable nips of air. Fitting, Reggie thought, to how imposing their home was to them, now.

Life at home had gotten worse since their older sister cut contact. They couldn’t be certain their parents were miserable to begin with, but they could tell that year by year the environment in the house deteriorated. They’d been young when it happened- they couldn’t have been more than five when she’d left for college and didn’t look back. Reggie understood why she left, and it was hard to blame her for making that decision. She’d always gotten it worse than they did, always. But Reggie would be lying if they didn’t occasionally feel bitter at being left behind. At being left with them. What hurt worse, though, was that she’d never even tried to contact Reggie. That, Reggie thought, hurt a lot worse than any of the shitty things their dad said to them, or the harsh, angry glances their mother would shoot in their direction. It wasn’t like they were hard to find these days- she  _ could’ve  _ googled them, at least, sent something to the band’s Instagram, or… Reggie stopped in their tracks, face hot with some emotion spanning hatred to grief, brow furrowed. It wasn’t worth getting angry. They rubbed their face with their left hand, trying to relax as they searched their pants pockets for their house key. They approached the doorstep with a sigh, before unlocking the door and stepping inside, careful not to let the door slam behind them.

It was dark. Maybe no one was home, but they didn’t feel like calling out to question their suspicions. Instead, they turned to the fridge, hoping to figure out what they’d be eating for dinner before they got to chores. They stared blankly ahead at the contents of the fridge, a soft hum bellowing from within it. It was, surprisingly, fairly full for the end of the month- mostly old take-out, granted, but it was edible. They opted to reach for a can of soda for now- if they finished their chores quickly they could probably hole up in their room for the rest of the night without any complaint from their parents. Reggie cracked the soda and hoisted themself onto the counter, enjoying the silence. At the sound of the door being unlocked again, they quickly slid off the counter and chugged the rest of their drink, before crushing the can and disposing of it. They gave a sigh of moderate relief when their mother stepped through the door.

“Reggie,” their mother said, devoid of warmth. It was less of a greeting and more of an acknowledgment that Reggie was occupying the same space as her. She looked them over quickly. “Why are you standing around? You have chores tonight.”

“I only just got home,” Reggie supplied.

“It doesn’t matter.” She said, waving a hand. “Just get them done before you go to sleep.” And that was where the conversation ended as their mother headed into the living room.

Reggie huffed, before rolling up the sleeves of their flannel, putting in their earbuds, and switching on the light in the kitchen. The light flickered pitifully before it began illuminating the room, its brightness dulled by the seemingly all-consuming darkness in the other rooms. They passively scrolled through their phone, looking for music to listen to while they worked. Reggie was partial to anything loud (or anything country, as they were unashamed to admit), and so settled on the metal playlist they’d been curating since eighth grade. They decided to work on the dishes first; it was their favorite of the two things they were slated to do today, despite how tedious it was. Music blared in their ears as they began scrubbing dishes, tapping their toes along to the beat of the song. 

Dishes usually took an hour from start to finish, given the terrible state their dishwasher was in. It’d been that way for a few years… three at least, Reggie thought, since it had been rendered out of commission, but their parents had no desire to fix it. And so, dish duty became one of Reggie’s weekly duties about the house. As the dirty water drained from the sink, Reggie wiped their hands on their pants, music still blaring. Reggie prepared to switch to a new song when their mother came from the living room, in a changed pair of clothes. 

“I’m going out. If your father comes home, let him in,” She said, stepping out of the door without a second glance.

“...Bye,” Reggie said blankly as the door slammed.

Well, that was one source of stress out of the house, at least. Next was laundry. It was the longer of the two chores, given how many loads they were expected to do by the end of the night- but between the cycles of washing and drying there was time for Reggie to sit down and watch TV. Television was one of the few comforts of the house that was yet to be attached to any negative emotion, and Reggie reveled in it. They let out a breath as they sunk onto the couch, grabbing vaguely for the remote. When it connected with their hands they quickly turned on the television, before flipping through the channels aimlessly. They eventually settled on a channel running a marathon of old eighties slashers. They settled in, the cheeriness they’d had earlier in the day starting to return, if only mildly. 

It was maybe the third load of laundry when Reggie heard the banging on the door. Instinctively, they flinched at the noise before shaking their startledness and heading to open the door. Unlike their mother, Reggie’s father didn’t even acknowledge their child as they opened the door; he merely brushed past, heading towards the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry for room temperature beer. Reggie didn’t bother giving a huff in irritation- it was better to avoid conflict with their father when they could. They sulked back to the living room, reclaiming their position on the couch, trying to redirect their attention to the scenes of phony gore which were playing out on the television.

“Remote,” Reggie's father grumbled as he shuffled into the living room, beer in hand.

“But I’m watching this,” Reggie said, a little irritated, as they turned to face their father. 

“ _ Remote _ ,” Reggie’s father grumbled again, sitting down on the Lay-Z boy and setting down his drink. It was more of a bark, this time. “Off your ass, give it to me.”

Reggie picked themself up from the couch, remote in hand. They marched the short distance from the couch to their father, unhappiness clear on their face.

Reggie’s father gave a curt hmm, the closest Reg had gotten to a thank you from their father in a long while. Their father reached to grab the remote, pausing as he grasped.

“What the fuck is on your hands?”

“What?” Reggie said, feigning ignorance.

“You heard me.”

“It’s, uh…” They choked on the words when they saw the look on their father’s face. Reggie’s father’s face rarely held anything but distaste behind its dire gaze, but this was new, unnerving, violent. Clearing their throat, they continued their thought. “It’s nail polish.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Reggie’s father sneered, voice low and cruel. “Figured your sister fucking off would burn this shit out of you,”

Reggie was silent, drawing back their hand. The sadness on their face was etched in further, as they curled their fists into balls at their sides.

“You’re a fucking man,” Their father snapped, and Reggie winced at the word. “And you’re going to act like one under my fucking roof. Get that shit off your fingers.”

“I’m… not.”

“What?”

“I’m not a man, and I’m not taking off the nail polish,” Reggie said flatly, determination in their eyes. Their concern at avoiding conflict was lost in their mind- they weren’t going to put up with this anymore.

Reggie’s father’s scowl grew deeper. “Don’t feed me that bullshit. Get to your room and get the polish off your fingers.”

“Fuck off,” Reggie said resolutely, anger clear on their face.

At this, Reggie’s father rose, and their stomach dropped. Reggie’s dad had a good four inches on them on a bad day, and at that moment it seemed as though their father was a towering giant, looming over, waiting to crush its prey at the slightest of false moves.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“You  _ heard  _ me, you fucking di-”

Their words were cut off by a sharp pain and a sudden blackness as their father reeled back and socked them in the nose.

Reggie’d been hit before. When they were younger, it was slaps across the face when they said something rude, or a pat on the back that was just a little too hard when they acted out in public. More recently, the hits had been rarer, but harder. They’d bruise, sometimes, leaving welts and sores for days or weeks. But this was new. The anger that was on their face just moments before melted away into a sort of shock, before that too faded away, leaving only an uncomfortable blankness on their features as they reached up to touch their nose. Definitely broken, Reggie noted mentally, as a stream of blood began to drip from their nostrils.

“Go to your room.” Reggie’s father said flatly, sitting back down.

And Reggie did. They marched up the stairs without another word. And silently, Reggie packed a bag, grabbed their bass, and climbed out the window.

The walk was quiet. Or, it would seem so to everyone else; Reggie’s headphones pounded music from their playlist into their ears at damaging volume. It was a lot darker out now, but the streetlamps were good enough at making the journey navigable. Their breath was ragged as they walked, thoughts racing. Reggie thought they’d be… sadder? This was dramatic, they figured, but they felt more... empty, they guessed, than anything. They were brisk on their path, at the doorstep of the Molina’s in just under thirty minutes. They knocked on the door rapidly, bouncing up and down as they waited for someone to open the door. Reggie was soon met by Ray, clad in pajamas, phone in hand.

“Sorry for coming over so late. Can I please stay with you for a while?”

Ray blinked “Victoria, I’m gonna call you back,” He said shortly, before directing his full attention to the battered teenager in front of him. “Jesus, come in, come, sit,”

Reggie stepped inside, leaning their belongings on the couch before sitting down. Noting the wetness on their face, they arose from the couch and shuffled over to the coffee table, taking a tissue from the box. They worked at wiping the blood away, which had dripped down to their chin (with red splotches now staining their white shirt), but the bleeding showed no sign of ceasing, so they simply plugged their nose with tissues and hoped for the best. They eventually sat back down, folding their hands together and blinking slowly at Ray as he hurriedly searched for a jacket. “Whats, uh, going on?”

Ray paused his search. “Reggie, your nose is broken.” The blank, confused stare Reggie responded with was agonizing. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Oh, alright.”

“Let me leave a note for Julie before we head out,” Ray said, scrambling to find a pen and paper, before hurriedly writing an explanation as to where he’d gone in the middle of the night. After Ray had finished that, he ushered the teenager out to the driveway and into the front seat of the car. Within seconds, they were en route to the ER. The pair sat quietly, Reggie staring out the window as Ray glared ahead at the road.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“Oh,” Reggie said, still gazing out the window. “My dad punched me,”

Ray sucked in a breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Internally, he cursed himself for not acting sooner, a mumble of varied Spanish curses escaping his mouth before he spoke again. “Reggie, I am so, so sorry. Has he done this before?”

Reggie shrugged, turning their face towards the windshield. “I mean, he’s hit me, but in the way most parents do. This is new.”

“Most?”

“Yeah, he slaps me around sometimes, but nothing serious,”

“Reggie,” Ray said, voice grave, turning his attention away from the road for a brief moment to look at Reggie. In the brief moment that Reggie saw his eyes, there was a strange combination of sadness and fierceness welled within them. It was oddly comforting. “That isn’t normal at all. He shouldn’t have done any of that to you.” 

“Huh.”

Ray turned again, searching Reggie’s face for any emotion, but the teenager seemed stoic, quietly staring ahead at the road. Eventually, the car pulled into the ER’s parking lot and Ray hurried Reggie inside.

“Hello, sir! How can I help you both today?” The receptionist said before looking up. 

“Hi,” Ray replied. “Uh, I think my kid broke their nose,”

“Hi, I’m Reggie.” They said, waving at the receptionist, who waved back in response. 

“And you are…?” The receptionist questioned, pen in hand.

“Oh, I’m their father. Ray Molina.” Ray said, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Alright, sir. If you’ll take this and fill it out,” said the woman, handing over a small packet of papers. “I’ll get the nurse out to you as soon as possible. Now, Reggie, are you in any pain? I can get you an ice pack while you wait,”

“That would be really nice, actually.”

The receptionist nodded. “Alright, I’ll go and get that for you. You two are welcome to sit anywhere in the lobby while you wait- I’ll page the nurse right now.” She said, before walking off to somewhere out of sight.

Reggie and Ray followed the receptionist’s suggestion and headed towards the lobby. Ray sat down as the receptionist suggested, while Reggie opted to go and look through all of the scholastic magazines, attempting to distract themself from their growing desire to prod at their now crooked nose. Ray eventually called them back over, handing over the packet he’d been given by the receptionist, along with a pen.

“I started filling out the stuff I know, but it’d be more accurate if you check the boxes yourself,” He stated as he handed the sheets over. Reggie nodded and took the items in hand, and began to scribble down information and check boxes as the sheet requested.

Soon, the receptionist returned with the ice pack, exchanging it for the filled-out sheet of medical information. “Thank you,” she smiled brightly. “I’ll take you to the nurse, now.”

The pair followed the receptionist further into the building, stopping in a plainly painted beige room with similar chairs to those in the lobby. Here, though, instead of varied side tables and puzzles for children, there was a sole, low lying table in the center of the room, and an x-ray machine above their heads. The receptionist waved them goodbye before stepping out, and the nurse began his evaluation of the injury at hand.

“Alright, Reggie, Mr. Molina,” The nurse said brightly, welcoming them to sit down. “The nose is the issue today, correct?” The nurse questioned, gauze in one hand, and clipboard in the other. Reggie nodded, and the nurse hummed.

“Alright,” The nurse nodded. “Now, Reggie, would you mind explaining how this happened?”

“Oh, um…” They started, trying to think of a convincing lie. “I was going to get water and I fell down the stairs. Landed right on my face,” They said, a tad stilted- they weren’t very good at lying.

The nurse nodded, scribbling down Reggie’s statement onto his clipboard. “Okay, I’m gonna feel your nose now, alright?” Reggie nodded, pulling out the tissues from their nose, causing the slow drip of blood to begin again. The nurse tutted softly. “Good thing I got the gauze. Lean forward, a little bit. Alright, tell me if anywhere I press hurts, okay?”

The nurse eventually concluded his examination, scribbling down some more info onto his clipboard before ushering the doctor in to do the x-ray. The results were resolute- there was a fracture, and a few opened cuts near the back of Reggie’s nostrils. 

“Fortunately it’s nothing serious,” the doctor remarked at the end of the examination. “We’ll help you straighten out your nose and stop the bleeding. You’ll have to wear a nose cast for a little while, but after that, you shouldn’t have any further problems.” 

After the doctor ran them through the varied things they needed to do to maintain the cast (and supplied them with a few Advil and a new ice pack), Ray and Reggie were on their way back home. The car ride was mostly silent during their return, save for the hushed feedback from the radio. Nothing much needed to be said.

“To answer your question from earlier,” Ray said, breaking the silence as they neared the house, “you can stay as long as you’d like.”

“Cool,” Reggie replied.

The first thing Ray did when they stepped out of the car was to envelop Reggie in a hug, eyes wet with forming tears. This poor kid had been through so much. Too much, Ray thought, tightening his grip. Reggie hugged back with similar intensity. When they separated, Reggie’s face was still uncomfortably blank, as though their brain was still trying to catch up to the events of the day. They offered a half-hearted smile to Ray (it was a tired, empty smile which made Ray feel a deep, miserable sadness in his bones), and whispered a thank you as they stepped into the house. Ray gave a warm smile in return, before sending them off to bed with a glass of water and an extra blanket from the linen closet.

Tonight, he didn’t bother to wait to make sure the kids were asleep- he simply slunk out onto the doorstep and called. “Victoria,” Ray said into the phone, voice hushed but urgent. “Can you come over? _Now?"_

The remainder of Ray’s night was spent in quiet conversation with Victoria as he emphatically described the situation at hand, Victoria nodding attentively with every detail given.

“Poor child,” Victoria said, feeling a similar sadness to Ray’s wash over her as he recounted what he knew. “I’ll come over in the morning and talk to Reggie in person, and get in contact with CPS. Thank you for bringing this to me, Ray.”

Ray nodded, eyes gleaming with a fatherly shine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter left of minimal fluff, folks. again, the next chapter might take a few days to come out!


	5. Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of abuse! It's mild, but it's there. This chapter was a little less fluffy than anticipated, tbh, but we're building to the motherlode of feel good stuff in the last chapter :P

Reggie hadn’t slept much. For most of the night he’d stared at the ceiling, in a sort of half-awake daze, waiting for the light to filter in through the window to give him an excuse to sit up. It was a quiet morning, an unfamiliar concept to him. Most mornings, if he’d gotten to sleep, he awoke to the gradually elevated noise of an early morning argument from his parents. Reggie’s mind, like the room around him, was almost unnaturally quiet. It was easier, Reggie decided, to simply not think about the events of the previous night. His fingers traced the length of his pillow, eyes foggy with sleep. It was all so… weird. He was here, he knew that much, but it didn’t feel real. There’d been no reason to be so nice to him. His breaths were raggedy before he steeled himself, breaths turning deliberate and soft. He carefully turned on his side, cautious not to put pressure on his nose. His blinks were groggy and slow, eyes red with sleeplessness. He looked at the window, face full of unfamiliar tiredness as the first hints of morning light slipped into the room through the shuttered blinds. Every inch of his body was exhausted, he noted, before reaching to pull the sheets closer to himself. He’d laid quietly in bed for another two hours before working up the energy to move. He sat up lamely, surveying the room around him. During the night, the few belongings he’d brought with him had been moved into the room- his bass and bookbag now leaned against the foot of the bed. He was still in his clothes from the night before. His jeans felt rough and unwelcoming against his skin, and his flannel was miserably wrinkled from his fidgeting throughout the night. He reached up to wipe the tiredness from his face, gently tapping the cast on his nose. He swung his legs over the side of the bed to the tune of a cautious tapping on the bedroom door.

“Reg? Can I come in?” Came the soft voice of Julie, leaning against the door.

“Yeah, come on in,” Reggie said passively, allowing himself to fall back onto the bed, kicking his feet aimlessly. 

Julie cracked the door open, stepping inside and moving to sit next to Reggie. “Are you alright?” She said, an earnest sadness in her voice.

Reggie stared at the ceiling. “I guess so. I can’t really tell how I’m feeling right now,” He said with a somewhat strained laugh. “It’s kind of a lot.”

“I get it,” Julie hummed, hands folded in her lap as she stared at the floor. “This is all kinda sudden, anyway.”

Reggie nodded. “Yeah. Sucks that these are the circumstances,” He said, referring to his nose. “Thanks for letting me stay with you guys, by the way. You and Ray and Carlos have all been like… stupid nice to me.”

“There’s nothing stupid about it, Reg,” Julie smiled, looking over at her friend. “You’re a good guy- oh, shit, sorry.” She said, wincing at her mistake.

“No, you’re fine. It’s ‘he’ again,” Reggie said, shortly. “So what’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay, you know?” She replied. “Oh, and also, do you want to come down for breakfast? If you need the day to yourself I totally get it, but I know you like pancakes.”

Reggie nodded along to the offer. “... I couldn’t pass up pancakes. I’ll come down. Just, uh, give me a little bit, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Julie nodded, giving Reggie’s hand a squeeze before standing. She carefully headed towards the door, pausing as she moved to leave the room. “I can, um, get you the blue nail polish, if you want,”

“Yeah,” Reggie smiled weakly. “that’d be nice.” 

Julie gave him a comforting nod before stepping out, closing the door behind her.

Reggie began tracing his eyes over the room again as the door clicked, focusing his mind on tiny chips in the paint, or the pattern of the door’s woodgrain, before grabbing a pillow next to him and hugging it as closely as he could to his body. For a few brief minutes, he contemplated screaming into it- but instead, he simply sighed heavily. He’d just make everyone more worried about him, doing that. Plus, if he pressed the pillow into his face to muffle the noise all the way, he might make his nose worse- there was no point. He rose to his feet, setting the pillow where he’d gotten it from, bouncing on his toes as he decided if he would change or not. He smelled god-awful, so he figured the former would be for the best. He rummaged through his bookbag searching for a decent change of clothes. He settled on a pair of sweatpants and some old, bleach-dyed tee he’d reached for in his scramble to leave. After he’d changed, he downed the remainder of the water Ray had given him the night prior, setting the glass down with a clank as he finished. He cracked his knuckles nervously before heading out the door, quieting his nerves as best he could. 

As he made his way down the stairs, Reggie noted the kitchen was quieter than normal. It was comforting, somehow- knowing he wasn’t the only one shaken. He looked about the kitchen quietly- Ray was still making pancakes, while a woman who Reggie recognized as Julie’s aunt Victoria fussed over spilled batter on the counter. Julie and Carlos sat at the table, taking fruit from the bowl at the center. His final step down the stairs was met with a sea of turned heads. The Molinas all looked at Reggie, with what he could only assume was pity in their eyes. 

“G’morning, everyone,” Reggie said, offering a sheepish smile as he sat down at the table.

“Morning, Reggie,” Carlos offered, trying and failing not to stare at the cast on Reggie’s nose.

“Sleep okay, mijo?” Ray asked, voice warm and level.

“Better than normal!” Reggie laughed as he, too, took a fruit from the bowl. “The cast made it sort of hard to get comfortable, but I was alright other than that.”

“Well, there isn’t much I can do about the cast,” Ray noted. “But if there’s anything I can do otherwise, let me know.”

“Thanks,” Reggie nodded. “Speaking of which, I could sort of use a toothbrush.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I sort of… forgot mine.” Reggie supplied nervously, to which Julie gave an understanding laugh.

“We’ll head up to the CVS after breakfast, then, get you the essentials.” Ray hummed, flipping his last pancake. “You make a list of anything else you want, we'll go out and get it this weekend.”

“Oh, uh, cool. Thanks.”

“Of course.” Ray smiled, before bringing the plate of pancakes over to the table and sitting down.

As everyone settled in to eat, Victoria spoke up. “Oh, where are my manners,” she huffed out, looking at Reggie. “We haven’t spoken before. I’m Victoria,” she smiled, eyes bright. She seemed nice, Reggie thought.

“Hi, I’m Reggie,” Reggie offered, a comfortable smile on his face.

“Tía, I’ve been meaning to ask- what’s the occasion? You usually call the landline before you come over.” Julie said after swallowing a bite of pancake.

Victoria nodded. “I’m just helping Ray with some household things- but I’m also here to talk with Reggie.”

“Oh. Why?” Reggie asked innocently.

Victoria paused, not wanting to ruin the child’s comfort by asking invasive questions at breakfast. “Actually... I’ll tell you after you’ve eaten. You look like you’re starving, niño.”

Reggie shrugged at this, unbothered, before piling pancakes onto his plate.

Breakfast was eaten in peaceful silence. Little needed to be said- just being in each other's presence was enough. The calm of it all was sort of overwhelming. It was just… so different, Reggie guessed. It was weird to think about. He knew that his home-life wasn’t great, of course, he could tell that much. But it was never so…  _ obvious _ ? Reggie had known, on some level, that stuff like this, normal family breakfasts, were happening while he’d been tip-toeing around the house to avoid his mom’s glares and his dad’s fists. While he’d been icing his bruises with freezer-burnt peas, families were enjoying each other’s company. While he stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to drown out the noise of his parents arguing, there were people… not doing that. He knew that. But having it all be laid out in front of him, being aware that he could’ve been living a life like that… it was a little much. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he cared so much about all of this. It wasn’t fair he had to deal with his parents for so long, all alone. What’d he do to deserve getting ragged on by his parents? Who had he killed in a past life to get stuck in such a miserable, loveless home for so long? As he thought, a dull, encompassing pain began to spread from his nose as the painkillers from the night before began to wear off. Reggie hovered the fork over his plate aimlessly, not really eating anymore. His breaths grew ragged as he ate, and his eyes were a little too watery to notice the looks of concern shared by Ray and Victoria. 

Why was everyone being so  _ nice  _ to him? What reason did Ray have to let some random asshole kid live in his house for an indefinite amount of time? What’d he do to earn this? He blinked, deep in thought. It was probably pity, Reggie reasoned, but even thinking that made Reggie’s stomach turn. It hurt his pride a little, knowing people pitied him. Reggie was the first to admit he didn’t pick up on everything that everyone said, but he could see when people would give him that look. That look of sadness, that quiet pain. Sometimes it was comforting, knowing someone cared about you. But it didn’t feel like that today. His grip on the fork grew tighter, and the metal began to press into his palm uncomfortably. The wetness in his eyes grew searing as the first fat, hot tears rolled down his cheek. He reached up to quickly wipe his face, but that only made the tears tumble down even faster.

Julie turned slightly, eyes wide as she processed the wetness accumulating on her friend’s face. “Oh,  _ Jesus _ , Reg, are you alright?”

Reggie sniffled, attempting to smile before devolving into incoherent sobs. 

Without a word, Ray stood up, circled the table, and pulled Reggie into a hug. Reggie clutched onto the other’s shirt for dear life, bawling into Ray’s chest. Ray could only supply a hushed ‘I know, mijo, it’s going to be okay’ as years of emotion bubbled to the forefront of Reggie’s person. The sobs were a menagerie of ragged breaths and choppy phrases- apologies and distressed cries of ‘I don’t understand’, all practically inaudible as the tears mangled his voice and Ray’s chest muffled the rest. The other Molinas quickly joined the hug in a desperate attempt to prove to Reggie that he was  _ safe _ , that he’d be  _ okay _ , that they were  _ there for him _ . They stood like that for some time, until Reggie’s breathing slowed and the tears dried to streaks of salt on his face.

When Reggie was ready to talk, he detailed his experience to Victoria, voice still wet with tears. He spoke with as much detail as he could remember, occasionally rolling up his shirt to give evidence of the bruises on his person. Victoria’s face was neutral save for sympathy as she wrote down what he shared.

“Thank you for telling me all of this, Reggie. I know this must’ve been difficult for you.” Victoria said as she put her belongings back into her purse.

Reggie nodded, wiping his face. “Yeah.”

“If it’s any help, there’s definitely a case here,” Victoria said. “If you wanted to pursue legal emancipation from your mother and father, you’ve got ample evidence to support you in court. But you’re 17, aren’t you?”

Reggie nodded.

“That’s good. If the legal route isn’t for you, you’ll age out of their care very soon, regardless.” Victoria hummed. “Now, I think you’ve had enough of these heavy subjects for today, hm? Why don’t you go spend time with your family?”

Reggie looked at her, confusion clear in his eyes before she tilted her head back towards the kitchen, where Ray, Carlos, and Julie were cleaning up. He smiled- tired, but genuine. There was a warm feeling in his chest- safety. It was nice. “I think I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost finished! Sorry this one took so long to come out, but school has been kicking my ass recently. I want to thank everyone for all of the love this fic has gotten! All of the comments mean a lot to me, as do the kudos (almost 100, WOW!!). It's really great to know that people like the story :-)
> 
> I promise the last chapter wont have anything sad in it, lol! I can't be certain when it'll come out, but hopefully it'll be before the end of the month. Thanks to everyone again!


End file.
